


Athena called, she’d like her job back

by Sorbus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Dubious summoning practices, Gen, M/M, Ron Weasley mentioned briefly, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorbus/pseuds/Sorbus
Summary: Crunch time could bring out the worst in anyone, really. Still, Harry's plan to summon the fabled 'god of essays' might not have been the smartest thing to do.





	Athena called, she’d like her job back

Harry hadn’t ever felt as ridiculous he did before, as he did while leaning in a wobbly circle of red wax and holding out a plate of raw, reduced priced beef. The problem was, he couldn’t muster up enough emotion to care that he was doing some odd pagan ritual – probably incorrectly anyway – because he was just that _done_.

His schedule was unfortunate that instead of a nice and easy four modules a term, he had three in the first term and five in the second. All his exams were at the beginning of the term, which meant he had to start studying _now_ when all his essays were still due, with two presentations he still had to pull out of his arse and had an eight hour shift to deal with – all while battling a cold. All in all, life was absolutely shit.

And yeah, he might be a little drunk (or absolutely _pissed_ ), but his university was raising fees, and government loans barely covered accommodation, and he was going to be in so much _debt_ , and his deadline was in six goddamn hours with only seventy-two words to show for it. Really, it was amazing he hadn’t given up yet.

 _No_ , Harry thought, a little hysterically, _I’m just making a sacrifice to some god of essays instead._

Nobody knew when it started, but rumours sprung up about this saviour deity that would help desperate students with their work in return for some sort of sacrifice. He hadn’t believed a word really, until Ron managed to pull an essay out of his arse that got him a First, half an hour before the deadline. Ron couldn’t get a First if his life depended on it.

Problem was, there wasn’t really a handbook for how to summon some random god that came with the student life guidelines – so with five minutes of Googling behind him, and what was left in the back of his fridge, Harry was going to give it a shot.

“Oh great god of essays,” he started, feeling like an absolute idiot, “help me please, before I shoot myself in the face.”

Harry was swaying quite a bit on his knees, the alcohol not really helping. His slice of beef looked like it would slide off its plate at any moment, but it was all that he could find that wasn’t half moulded.

“Well,” came a smooth voice out of absolutely fucking nowhere. “We can’t have that, can we?”

 _Whatthefuck_.

“Tut, tut. Language.” There is was again.

Harry peered through bleary eyes, and there in front of him was a poster boy for some nineteen-forties, good catholic boy advertisement.

“Christ,” he muttered. This was why you didn’t drink after taking cold medicine.

“No, wrong pantheon, I’m afraid.” And wow, was that voice _smooth_. Also very arsehole-y. Harry could _feel_ the condescension rolling off the other boy’s tongue. “Though the Abrahamic entities tend to look down on the whole summoning thing. They like to act as if they’re better than everyone else.”

There was a sneer of pretty-boy’s quite frankly, angelic face. That, more than anything, convinced Harry this was real, because there was no way he’d dream up himself an angel that acted like _Malfoy_ of all people.

“Great.” Harry said. “Does that mean you’ll help me with my essay?”  

The entity shot him a look. “And _what_ , exactly, will you give me for my service?”

Harry glanced down at the sad slab of beef in front of him. It was sort of obvious was he was planning on giving, but that appeared to be the wrong answer because he got another sneer for it and an audible scoff.

“You’ll have to do better than that to win my favour.”

Harry glanced around a little desperately. There was his dirty pile of clothes – useless – some rubbish he’d forgotten to take out, his laptop – he’d rather die, in all honesty – and various piles of textbooks he’d taken out of the library. There weren’t really many options there.

With the feeling that he was doing something very, _very_ stupid, Harry asked. “What, exactly, would you like?”

Whatever the hell that being was, the smile that crept along his face was the most godless thing Harry had ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> this has been lying on my computer for two years so what the heck


End file.
